


Long Way to Fall

by MerHums



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mystrade Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerHums/pseuds/MerHums
Summary: Mycroft's been branded as a thief, and left to die in an icy port. Luckily, a town guard stumbles on him, and gives him shelter. It seems all Mycroft will be stealing is Greg's heart.





	Long Way to Fall

Mycroft shivered and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. He needed to find shelter before he froze to death out here, among the kegs and crates of the river port. At least he’d been left alive at all. Prince Harris had never trusted him and almost as soon as he’d become King, banishing Mycroft had been one of his first orders of business. Never mind that he’d done his job loyally and well, he’d been too close to the old King. Harris felt that he’d had too much power, too much of the King’s ear. So he’d woken up on a ship heading upriver, with only the clothes on his back and a scar on his hand that marked him as criminal.

It hadn’t been entirely unexpected, that Harris hated him enough to banish him. But his father had expired too quickly for Mycroft to put any of his plans in motion that might have preserved any part of his fortune. As soon as the crew realized he was awake, he’d been put to work, paying for his forced passage with blistered hands.

And now here he was, off the ship, hungry, no money, no prospects, in the middle of a bitterly cold winter, and bearing a brand that would keep any respectable person from hiring him. But he had his life and his mind, and perhaps that would be enough.

He found a tavern not far down from the ships and slipped inside, hoping he could at least find some warmth.

**

Greg looked up with only a little interest as the innkeeper argued with someone, putting him out into the alley. Shrugging, Greg went back to his ale, finishing it off and making his excuses so he could head out. He'd been on duty all day, and would rather be home than out drinking, despite the lack of someone to warm his bed. He could find someone no doubt, but that would involve dealing with the aftermath. Being a guards officer had its problems-this was one of them.

He glanced over, seeing someone rummaging in the rubbish scattered about nearby. The same person who had been tossed from the tavern earlier. “Oi. Don't let the keeper catch you at that, he'll skin your hide. Doesn't like people messing in his rubbish.”

Mycroft flinched. “Not like he needs it,” he said, pulling away and looking at the stranger. Town guard, off duty, single. He wondered if he should or could proposition the man.

“Yes, but it's still something he doesn't like. Uses it for his gardens, so.” Greg watched him carefully. “Haven't seen you around before.”

Mycroft licked his lips, aware of how wretched he looked. “Just arrived in town, sir,” he said carefully, pulling his cloak a little tighter, aware that the man could see the brand on his hand, marking him as a thief. He would no doubt make his judgements, and probably dismiss him out of hand if he didn’t jail him for the night.

“Where are you staying? Mark like that, I'd say you won't have gotten a room anywhere.”

Mycroft shook his head. “Nowhere and I have no one. He kicked me out because I had no coin to buy even a single drink.”

Greg sighed, knowing this was a bad idea. “Do you want a place for the night?”

Mycroft nodded. “That would be kind, sir. Perhaps I could repay you.”

“It's better for me this way. You freeze out here, I'm the one who has to deal with your body. C’mon,” Greg said, gesturing ahead. “I've got some food at home too.”

“Thank you,” said Mycroft, meaning it. He had to trust that he wouldn’t be murdered by morning, but it didn’t seem that he was the type. “My name is Mycroft. What should I call you?”

“Greg. I'm one of the town guard officers. Like I said. If you'd frozen I would have had to deal with your body.”

“Are winters always this cold here?”

“Yes. Though this year has been a little colder than I remember.”

“I lived on the southern coast before. It was warmer there.”

“How'd you get here?” 

“I was put on a boat.” It was the truth anyway. “Then kicked off said boat.”

“Ah.” Greg gestured forward and opened his front door, entering into the kitchen. “There's a bucket of wash water there. It's cold, but does the job,” he said, moving to stoke the fire.

“Thank you.” It felt good to scrub himself a bit, despite the shivering. “You don’t have any servants. Perhaps I could help you?” If Gregory wouldn’t trust him, of course he’d understand.

“Don't really need any help. It's just me,” Greg said, stirring the pot of cold stew over the fire. “What did you do before you got here?” 

“It’s not important,” lied Mycroft. “But I made an enemy, and that is how I am here.”

“Amazing how that happens, isn't it? You thirsty?”

“Yes, please.”

Greg put one of the pokers into a mug of cider, heating it before bringing it over to him. “You need some warmer clothes.”

“I’m willing to work, sir.”

“I'll find something for you to do. But for now,” Greg said, going over to a small cupboard. 

“Thank you. May the Gods bless your kindness.” Mycroft was being sincere, though he didn’t put much stock in the Gods these days. He sipped his cider and watched Greg.

Greg brought down some warmer robes for him. “They're old but still good. Here.” 

Mycroft set his cider aside to change. “Thank you,” he said again.

“You're welcome.” Greg kept himself turned away, stirring the pot before getting two bowls.

Mycroft folded his old clothes and accepted the bowl, feeling warmer already. “You may well have saved my life.”

“Well, I couldn't let you stay out there.” 

“Most would have. But I suspect you aren’t like most, are you?” He made himself eat with patience.

“Just eat,” Greg said quietly, sitting down across from him.

Mycroft nodded and ate, wondering about this unusual man. Now that he was warming up, exhaustion pulled at him.

Greg finished eating, and set his bowl aside. “Tired? We can share the loft, or, you can stay down here. I'll know if you take anything, of course.”

“I don’t mind sharing a bed,” said Mycroft softly.

“All right. You finished?” Greg asked, standing and going to lock the door.

“Yes, sir.” Mycroft watched him. 

“Don't call me that,” Greg said, reaching up and pulling down the ladder to the loft. “Come on.”

Mycroft nodded and followed him, settling onto the thin bed next to Greg.

“There's an extra blanket there if you're cold,” Greg said quietly, reaching out for the candle. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Gregory.”

**

Mycroft woke early, a habit he’d already had, made more necessary during the travel. Greg still snored softly and he slipped out of bed, going down to bank the fire and prepare them something for breakfast.

Greg woke up alone and sighed. Mycroft was gone, and probably with anything he thought he could sell. He shook his head and got up, climbing down only to stop as Mycroft walked inside, holding a new bucket of water. “Oh. Morning.”

“Good morning. I heated the wash water, and breakfast is almost done.” He put down the water and went to the fireplace. “I know you said you didn’t need a servant, but I don’t mind.” He’d started out as a servant, years ago as a child, but had quickly been plucked out of that for his mind, trained and put to work for the king. It had been a good life, but it was gone now.

“There's not all that much to do. I don't have much. But...if you want a place to stay…” Greg hesitated. “I...all right. Fine...”

“If you don’t trust me, I’ll understand,” said Mycroft, stirring the pot. “After all, you met me kicked out of a bar, and I have the mark.”

“The thieves mark is more nonsense than truth most times. It's given to people who might be criminals, or just made someone mad. You don't look like a criminal. If you were, you'd have been smarter and have stolen some gold instead of going into the tavern.”

“Stealing gold would just reinforce the perception that I’m a criminal. I went to the tavern mostly for warmth.” He poured out the food.

“But stealing gold would have gotten you a place. Even if it was in jail.” Greg accepted the bowl. “Thank you.” 

“I considered it, but as it is, here I am.” He sat to eat with him.

“Do you have a last name?” Greg asked. 

“Holmes. Mycroft Holmes.” He wasn’t well known outside the Kings inner circle, so he doubted the name would bring Greg any information.

“Very nice to meet you. Gregory Lestrade. And now, I need to head into work.” 

“Is there anything you’d like me to do today?”

Greg glanced around and shrugged. “If you really want something to do, you can clean a little? I haven’t gotten to it in a bit. Otherwise, not really.” 

“Okay. You have a good day.”

“Thank you.” Greg stood and pulled on his cloak, thick gloves and boots, heading out into the bitter wind.

**

Sally looked up as Greg came into work. “Something’s on your mind this morning.”

“I got a servant,” Greg replied, shivering as he rubbed his arms. “It's freezing in here.” 

“How did you manage that?” asked Sally, handing him a warm drink.

“He needed a place to stay. Thanks.” 

“Not like you to take in strays, is it?”

“No. This one had a look in his eyes though. Couldn't say no.”

Sally chuckled. “Well I hope he’s good for you. You spend too much time alone.”

Greg shot her a warning look. “C’mon. We’ll feed this one and go walk the market.”

Sally gave him a smile. “All right.”

Greg brought the man dozing in the cell a bowl and woke him up. “You're free to go once you eat, Rich. Don't have me put you in here again.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Yeah. Go on.” Greg nodded. 

He quickly swallowed the food and scurried out.

“All right. Market. I'm gonna pick up a few things while we're there if it's quiet too.” Greg smiled and led her out. 

“All right.”

** 

Greg pushed open the door, going wide eyed as he looked into the cottage. “It's so clean…”

Mycroft scooped out some food. “I never could stand to be idle. If you've got some coin I could get food from the market tomorrow.”

“Ah...I brought a little back today but…” Greg stepped in and shut the door. “Here. This is for you.”

“Oh.” Mycroft took the gloves and boots. “Thank you very much.”

“You needed them.” Greg smiled. “Did..you organize?” 

“Is that okay?” Mycroft looked up through his eyelashes.

“Yeah. I was just a little surprised. Here, let’s eat.” 

Mycroft carefully set the boots and gloves aside and sat. “How was your day?”

“It was all right. Normal work. Walked the market to make sure nothing happened.” 

“I’m sure you take good care of your city. It’s quite large, isn’t it?”

“For the most part. There’s four guard stations, so one for every quarter. But the market is small and our port is small still.” 

“But i’d imagine it’s not so busy this time of year.”

“Not at all. Too cold for anything.” Greg smiled. “This is really good, Mycroft. Been awhile since anyone cooked for me.” 

“It’s been some time since I’ve cooked, but glad to know I haven’t forgotten.”

Greg chuckled. “How long?” 

“Close to twenty years, to be honest.”

“That is a long time,” Greg agreed. “A lot of tavern food then?” 

“The place where I worked before, meals were provided,” he said carefully.

“Ah.” Greg nodded. “How old are you then?” 

“In my late thirties.”

Greg smiled. “Me too.”

“I’ve worked since I was small. Not manual labor in a long time, well, not until the ship.”

“What did you do then?” 

“A government job,” he said. “Kept books, that kind of thing.”

“Really. Well then.” 

Mycroft blushed and picked at his food. “Just enough to make a powerful enemy, obviously.”

“Obviously. Are you far enough away to be safe or should I worry?” Greg asked. 

“I’m far enough away. I’m sure he hoped that I’d be killed on the journey or freeze to death once I got here.”

Greg nodded. “All right.” 

“I shouldn’t be a danger to anyone,” Mycroft repeated, eating his food quietly. “And as I said, I can earn my keep.” He glanced at his hand.

“I see that. And you’re welcome to stay here.” 

“Thank you, Greg. Truly.”

Greg smiled, and then went back to his food. 

**

They settled into an easy companionship. Greg didn’t ask too many more questions about his past, and Mycroft didn’t volunteer. This life was far different, but it was comfortable, and he found he was glad to see the smile on Greg’s face.

Sometime a week or so later, Mycroft woke early again, and realized he was aroused. Greg was certainly handsome enough, but he was uncertain how the other man felt. Still, there weren’t exactly too many places to go in the small house, so he quietly lifted his robe and began to touch himself, hoping Greg wouldn’t wake up.

Greg shifted slightly, hearing something he couldn’t place, but keeping his eyes shut. 

Mycroft’s eyes were closed, even if his thoughts drifted to the man next to him. He bit back a moan, imagining Greg’s hands on his skin.

Greg opened his eyes a bit reluctantly, hearing another unfamiliar sound. He froze, seeing the movement of Mycroft’s hand, his own body reacting to the sight. It had been ages since he’d felt another man’s touch, let alone been able to lay beside and watch. 

Mycroft’s hips shifted despite himself, the blanket sliding down.

Greg bit his lip, hoping the blanket would slide just a bit further. 

Mycroft pushed the blanket down, giving a brief gasp as the cold air touched his skin.

Greg nearly mirrored his gasp, instead, moving his hand down and squeezing his own throbbing cock. 

Mycroft felt his heart skip, hearing movement. Opening his eyes, he looked over, and found Greg watching, wide eyed and clearly just as hard.

“Shit,” Greg breathed. “I…” 

“You don’t want me to stop.”

“Gods, no. Please keep going.” 

Mycroft licked his lips and sped his hand. “I was thinking of you.”

“What was I doing?” Greg asked, slipping his hand into his breeches with a groan of relief. 

“Touching me,” breathed Mycroft.

“How?” 

“Just… your hands on my skin. Holding down my hips.”

“Can I?” Greg asked, voice harsh already. 

“Gods, yes.”

Greg shoved the blankets down the rest of the way and rolled over, pinning him down. 

Mycroft moaned and leaned up to kiss him, craving him.

Greg moaned back, rolling his hips. 

“Do you have any idea how attractive you are?” breathed Mycroft.

“People tell me. Don't really listen,” Greg groaned, lowering his head and nipping at Mycroft's collarbone.

Mycroft groaned. “Are there laws here, about lying with men?”

“Yes.” Greg lapped over the mark, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Mycroft’s cock. 

Mycroft moaned. “I don't wish to get you in trouble.” He kissed Greg again. 

“I'm an officer of the guard.” 

“I want you.”

“Good.” Greg stroked his hand faster. “C’mon. Show me.” 

Mycroft’s eyes closed again and he writhed underneath Greg, not holding back on the pleasure washing over his face.

“Come,” Greg muttered, rutting against Mycroft’s hip. “C’mon.” 

Mycroft gave a low cry and came, flushing as he did so, vulnerable but revelling in it.

Greg groaned and kissed him deeply, continuing to stroke his cock. 

“May I suck you off?” panted Mycroft.

“Oh gods, yes.” Greg pulled away, kneeling back. 

Mycroft shifted and wrapped his mouth around Greg’s ample cock, moaning lustily as he worked him over.

Greg threaded his fingers through Mycroft’s hair, tugging at him. 

Mycroft looked up at him through his lashes, using his tongue.

Greg groaned, watching him carefully. 

Mycroft relaxed his throat, wanting to swallow him down when he came.

Greg rocked his hips, wondering how far Mycroft could take him. 

Drooling a bit, Mycroft took Greg all the way, swallowing around him.

Greg muffled a cry with his hand, close enough that his body pulled tight. 

Mycroft’s eyes drifted closed as he brought Greg over the edge.

Coming hard, Greg tightened his grip on Mycroft, thrusting up accidentally. 

Mycroft gagged, but swallowed what he could, coughing as Greg pulled his cock free.

“Sorry,” Greg managed, laying down and kissing him. “Sorry. Been..gods, so long. Forgot.” 

“It’s okay,” said Mycroft hoarsely. “I liked it.”

Greg smiled and nipped gently at his lower lip. “I’m glad. Wouldn’t want to scare you off.” 

“Couldn’t.”

“Done it before. Not easy marrying a guard. Or being a guard.” 

“I’ve never had time for a true relationship before myself.”

“I was married once. Didn’t end up staying together. Everyone here thinks she’s died. She didn’t. I gave her enough coin to start somewhere else as a tanner, and I stayed here with the house.” 

“That was kind of you.”

“She needed to leave here.” Greg shook his head, and laid back, putting an arm around Mycroft. 

Mycroft snuggled into his arm. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“You know? I am glad you are too. But...what do you want from me?” Greg asked quietly. “Is this just so you can stay here?” 

Mycroft blinked and raised his head. “What?”

“I don’t want...this, if it means you’re just using it to stay here. You can stay here without it.” 

Mycroft shook his head. “That’s…. That’s not why…”

Greg nodded. “I understand,” he said quietly. 

Mycroft leaned in and kissed him gently.

Greg pulled away with a small smile. “I should go to work.” 

“Of course. I’ll probably go to the market today.”

“All right. I’ll leave some coin for you.” 

“Thank you.” Mycroft kissed him one more time. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Greg nodded. “Thank you. I’ll go out and get wood first.” 

Mycroft smiled and hummed, going downstairs.

They enjoyed breakfast together, and soon after Greg left, he headed for the market, noticing that the day was warmer.

**

“Think spring is finally coming?” Greg asked as he and Sally patrolled around their quadrant. 

“I think so, barring another storm.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t happen.” 

“Knock on wood.”

Greg shook his head. “Let’s go over to the market. It’s warm, it’ll be busy.” 

“Good idea.” Sally led the way. They were almost there when they heard a commotion.

Greg swore, and they ran ahead, coming to a throng of people. “Oi! What’s going on here?” 

“Caught a thief,” growled someone, gesturing them ahead.

“Told you,” Greg sighed, pushing through. “Scuse us. Guards coming through.”

Mycroft was trembling, the shopkeeper holding him in an iron grip. He looked up and saw Greg and another guard and looked back at the floor.

“What’s going on here?” Greg asked sharply. “Is there a reason you have my servant caught here?” 

“Servant? He’s a thief, ain’t he?” The man gestured at Mycroft’s hand.

“Yes, which is why I am the one he is working for. He knows better than to steal.” Greg frowned. “Has he stolen something?” 

“He had a bit too much coin on him.”

“Yes. I gave him enough to buy me food and new gloves, with a little left over to ensure that we had cider.” Greg gestured. “So, if you don't mind.”

The man grumbled and let go. Mycroft took a step back towards Greg, still with his eyes fixed on the ground. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Give me the coin, and go home. You can collect wood,” Greg ordered. 

“Yes, sir.”

Greg accepted the purse, and then glanced at Sally. “I’ll be right back,” he said, taking Mycroft by the upper arm and leading him to the entrance of the market, tugging him into an alley. “You all right?” he asked gently.

Mycroft was shaking slightly. “I’ll be fine. It was just unexpected. I.. didn’t think about not wearing my gloves today.”

“Well. People know now.” Greg rubbed his arm. “I’d still keep them on. And I’ll spread the word about you being my servant. That’ll help.” 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ll go home.”

“All right. Anything you want from the market? I’ll bring it home to you.” 

“I don’t know. Something for dinner?”

Greg nodded. “All right. Now. Go home. And be careful.” He tapped Mycroft’s gloves. 

Mycroft pulled them on and nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Greg squeezed his hand and let him go, heading back to Sally. 

“Everything okay?” asked Sally.

“Yeah. That’s the one I picked up a while ago. Obviously.” 

“He’s a redhead too, I see.”

“He is.” Greg walked forward, leading her to the other end of the marketplace. 

Sally was aware of people watching until they were free of the crowd. “Did you want to talk about it? You know it’s safe with me.”

“Not really. Not sure what there is to talk about.” 

“Well, if you need anything.” Sally patted his arm.

“Thanks, Sally. I might go home early today.” 

“Yeah, go take care of him. I’ll let the boss know.”

“Don’t bother. Not like he actually cares what we get up to.” 

“Not as long as we do our job. Well, if he asks, otherwise, i’ll just take care of the patrol.”

“All right. Let’s head down toward the docks. See how things are going there.” 

“Sure.”

**

Greg set the food he’d brought on the kitchen table, glancing around. He caught the ladder and smiled, climbing up quietly only to find Mycroft asleep on the cot, curled in the blankets. 

Mycroft stirred. “Gregory?”

“Yeah.” Greg laid down beside him. “You all right?” 

“Better now that you’re here.” He snuggled up against him. “I… should be honest with you regarding my past.”

“I would appreciate that,” Greg said quietly.

Mycroft sighed, not looking at him. “I worked for a King. He died, suddenly. HIs son was the one that had me cast out.”

“Why?” Greg asked. 

“He felt I was too close to his father. He didn’t understand the work I did, so he considered me a threat.”

“When you say close….how?” Greg glanced down at him.

Mycroft blushed. “I never slept with him, if that’s what you're asking.”

“I was.” Greg rubbed his back slowly. “And so not the son either.” 

“No. I rarely slept with anyone, and even if I did, it was a nights dalliance and nothing more. I wouldn’t have jeopardized my position.”

“Not allowed where you were either?” 

“Not outright banned, but certainly frowned upon.”

Greg nodded and kissed his forehead. “I have food waiting downstairs. If you want it.” 

“I am grateful for you, you know. Even if I’m no longer in a royal court, you give me reason to go on.”

“I’m just glad I didn’t leave you out to freeze.”

“Me too. When I woke up on that ship… I was a bit surprised he’d let me live. But I think he wanted me to suffer, wanted me to know how far I’d fallen. I miss my homeland sometimes, but, there are good things here.” Mycroft kissed him gently.

“There are. And what we have here could be one of them. Come on. Dinner.” 

“Yes, sir,” smiled Mycroft.

Greg smiled back and kissed him, climbing down from the loft and plating up the food. 

Mycroft followed him down, falling into easy conversation.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find us on AO3 at [Janto321 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/)and [HumsHappily](http://archiveofourown.org/users/humshappily) or on tumblr at [merindab ](http://merindab.tumblr.com)(janto321) and [HumsHappily](http://hums-happily.tumblr.com)


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